A Matter of Trust
by FenOnFire
Summary: Trusting others is vital.
1. Chapter 1

Robot and Shadow were tightly pressed together. They touched and petted one another, enjoying the closeness and security. Robot thought that was all there was for physical affection between two beings such as themselves. Then, Shadow said he could give him more, show Robot how the shadows loved each other. Robot was hesitant. It sounded too much like his possession, his attack when he crossed the bridge into the Forest. His security programs thought so, too. All the same, it sounded tempting.

"Don't you trust me, Robot?" the question cut through his thoughts.

"Of course I do, Shadow. But my programming-"

"Oh, is that all! I can get around it, if you want."

"I'd rather you didn't, Shadow. Please... Just give me a moment." Robot's programming shouted and screamed at him not to trust this Forest creature, this glass-eyed shadow, with his inner workings. This wasn't the same as merely allowing the creature to attach to him, which was bad enough (despite his own feelings on the matter). If he did this, then everything, even his circuitry and processors, would be at this demon's mercy, there would be no escaping its will, it could do anything it wanted to him, _just like last time_... 

With great foreboding, Robot turned off the warnings and error messages. It wasn't that he himself didn't trust his friend; all the Court robots were programmed to distrust the Forest creatures, for good reason. His task done, he waited.

Shadow smiled at him and giggled softly, and a few things he missed rose up in warning. He quieted them as his friend pushed at the seams and joints of his frame. Yes, this was very different from hiding beneath his clothing. Shadow wasn't even in and he could tell. He could feel the edges being pushed ever-so-slightly aside, the inky black shape insinuating himself into the seams. _Just like_- NO. 

He trusted his friend completely. Shadow wouldn't hurt him, not like the other one. This anxiety was nothing more than Diego's attempts to protect his creations. Robot ignored it, or tried to. He could still see Shadow's face, smiling at him. The tension where he'd seeped in grew as the creature's formlessness writhed inside his frame, caressing his innards and awakening nodes. Soon, he began to feel full and heavy... _Just like last time_, came the warning. It was hard to ignore. Shadow found Robot's wiring, stroking the thin outer casing protecting the metals and currents that allowed him to move and feel. _Just like last time_. Fans whirred to keep him cool, as Shadow's presence within him began activating defense mechanisms that he had to shut down over and over until they finally submitted to his conscious will. If he were a flesh-and-blood organism he would have taken a deep, calming breath. But robots didn't have such means of self-comfort.

Shadow coiled around his wires, rubbing the nerve-like structures, trying to find a way inside their thin casings, finally finding a few. Robot was tense, even though he trusted his friend, as the Forest creature pushed and swelled inside the wires, smothering his ability to move himself. _Just like last time_. But this time it didn't hurt, and Robot trusted Shadow not to misuse him, not to cause him harm, so he forced down every command and protocol trying to stop Shadow's exploring, the all-consuming presence that throbbed within and grew larger. Finally, his friend was closing in on his CPU, his mind...

"Shadow, wait!" 

"...Why...?" his friend sounded hurt. The intense pulsating sensation went on. It felt wonderful, and terrifying, as it grew within him. _Just like last time_. It was a warning that refused to die, as it was formed in his pattern-recognition programming.

"Give me a moment. I don't want to hurt you," he explained. Everything he'd stopped, put on hold, or turned off tried to rise up at once, to attack his friend for this indignity, this danger, but he crushed them away. "You may continue."

"Okay!" Shadow was always so cheerful. Not all Forest creatures were dangerous. He continued unhindered, penetrated further into his processors. Robot felt like he would burst or shatter if he fought this. Shadow kissed Robot's flat, metal face before completely disappearing inside him. Robot grunted softly with pleasure. Thin, silky black tendrils emerged from his joints, the little gaps in has armor, and snaked themselves around him, weaving through each other and through him. They formed a snug, inescapable cocoon that tightened and pulsed even as the rest of Shadow continued to swell and writhe within him. He whimpered Shadow's name, begging for more despite his alarm, and he could hear his friend humming a little sing-song as he worked. The gaps in his fingers, the broad planes of his plating, all felt the growing compression. His optics were covered; all he could see was Shadow. Every sensor told Robot that his friend Shadow was in him, on him, through him. It was impossible to relax under such conditions.

Shadow wasn't tearing his way into the CPU. He pushed at weak points and retreated, over and over, each push driving deeper into his codes and files. Robot was holding on by a thread. If Robot had been wrong this entire time, if his trust... his _love_... had been misplaced, then even reactivating his security could not save him now. He was, without doubt, entirely at his friend's mercy. "...Shad- OH!"

With one decisive heave, Shadow burst through the remaining codes and firewalls. It felt so intense to Robot. How could a weightless being like his friend exert such force? After adjusting, expanding his control even further than Robot had thought possible, he began using his new-found access to toy with Robot's sensors. Robot was ashamed to find himself momentarily flinching at Shadow's absolute power over him, as Shadow began to do something new inside him.

Shadow was putting a poem in his mind, made of memories instead of words. Images of light and shadows, flowers in rainstorms and stars on cloudless nights. Thunder and lightning from the safety of a cave, the warmth of fire and the softness of grass. The smell of snow, the sound of mother pigeons returning to the nest. He saw himself as his friend did- loved, trusted, admired and adored.

This... was nothing like last time. It felt wonderful. Nothing else compared to it.

So much so that Robot found himself wishing it could last forever, just himself and Shadow, as one undulating pleasure-form.

So much so that he nearly crashed from the overwhelming number of pleasure and happiness signals surging through him.

So much so that when Shadow's wild writhing and ever-tightening hold reached their climax, making Robot feel like his body no longer even existed-just pleasure, comfort, peace- Robot couldn't contain his muffled shouts of of 'Oh!'. Shadow made a shuddering sound too, softer and breathier than Robot's, before lying still. They rested, content, for a long time, before Shadow did it to him again. After an eternity, the crushing force of his friend slowly shrank back, the warm cocoon growing as Shadow withdrew from the chips and wires, from his vents and fans, and finally from the narrow gaps in his joints. The shadow creature pulled away from his face. Robot distinctly remembered that he had been below his friend when this began, but now he was looking down at the cheerful, smiling face.

Now that he had control of his own arms again, he wrapped them around his friend, mildly saddened that he could not repay this wonderful gift he'd just received. "I love you, Shadow."

"I love you too, Robot!"


	2. Chapter 2

When he first met Antimony, they were in the Court. It was there he learned she was responsible for that mechanical abomination that dared die on the wrong side of the bridge. It was there he learned that even after the torments he must have suffered at their hands Reynardine still loved humans. And it was there that he did something he still regrets- he sent branches flying through the air, extensions of his claws, meant to claw the tiny, arrogant human that dared slap a god and call him a dog.

It was later he found she was merely ignorant. One can't tear a cub apart for not knowing better; they must learn.

Later, she had run up to him while he was weak, away from his gift to feed. Despite his growls she reached for him. She was from the Court. That fact and his wounded pride gave dark motives to an innocent act. Surely she meant to capture him, like her mother had taken his traitorous rival Reynardine. She meant to kill him, strike him while he was distracted and shatter the ribs shamefully exposed by old age. In outrage he'd jumped into the tree, his gift, to defend himself. Antimony had shaken with fright when he shouted in her face. Yes, they were worn, and yes he might soon lose them, but he still had his teeth. It was her first lesson. 

Soon he came to see her as a naïve little pup, not yet ready to raise her hackles against the snarling world she walked in, unaware that there were things who watched her with malice. He allowed her to ride his back as they traveled through the Woods. She came to him when the pressures of the Court were too much, looked to him for guidance when life in the Woods vexed her.

Lord Coyote told her the great secret, and he'd left to cool his head. That was all he remembered, and when Coyote gave her his position he was both jealous- she was human!- and proud. It was not his place to question his lord, only to ensure that his wishes were fulfilled. He had taught her much, he could teach her still. She was still a child. The humans seemed confused at his offer of protection, as though he were some wild animal with no sense of decency. Even Annie had gone stiff with worry when she first returned to his side, preferring to walk. After so much time with her warm weight on his shoulder, it stung, though he wouldn't let anyone see such a weakness in him.

How horrible to learn that he'd misbehaved. She'd never truly trust him after that. This had happened so many times before, he knew that as soon as she was out of his sight he'd be lucky to see her again, unless she had no choice... But still he had to apologize. Honor and guilt both demanded it.

He would never tell anyone his joy at her forgiveness- so few spared him any these days. She had survived his worst and didn't hold it against him. It was time for her to raise her hackles, to be strong.

And she did! The fire she'd kept buried burst forth, earning her respect at last. He was right to be proud. Once more she trusted him, let him hold her like a pup. He knew she wouldn't strike him while he rested. What child strikes her father- no, no, they were friends only. He wouldn't usurp that role, no matter how unfit that human was for it. Her hand on his face, a doting caress usually meant for mere dogs, was a touch he loved and trusted.


End file.
